This is the story of a boy.

how do you begin a story when you don’t know how it ends? why write about it, in the first place? i’ve always found that putting things to paper has always been a way to make things seem more real. it reassures me that what occurred in the past was not some figment of my overactive imagination. that has always been the lure of writing to me.  i look at these words and they calm me. they tell me that no matter what lies ahead in the future, i will always, always have these memories.

 the night i met him, it was raining. we’ve planned on seeing each other, finally, after a couple of weeks of talking on the phone and texting. i remember feeling like i was about to vomit, that was how nervous i was. when i saw him for the first time, i knew i was a goner. even before we met, i was probably half in love with this guy. who would’ve thought that someone so young could be so grounded? so principled? for someone like me whose views in life varied depending on my mood, this guy, with his sure ways, was a revelation. i felt that i could be like him. and maybe together, we can brave the world and not let anything tear us apart. it didn’t hurt that he was cute, and funny, and loved the same things i did: the same books, the same music, the same movies, even the same clothes. we saw differently in a lot of things, but somehow, it worked so perfectly for us.

 it was awkward, that first night. we didn’t talk like old friends, nor did we gaze intensely into each other’s eyes like in the movies. there were moments of excruciating silence, some fumbling for words, topics, anything to make the awkwardness disappear. but the wind was cold, and the rain made it feel like we were in some secret place. until now, i can close my eyes and see his face, the way he looked back then. and i knew that was when i fell completely in love.

 when the night was about to end, i prayed that it wouldn’t be the last meeting, that once the spell was broken, we’d still find reasons to see each other. but i was also ready to say goodbye to him. after all, we never made any commitments. although there were so many things that connected us, there were also a lot of things that were different. but as i watched his cab go, i texted him. “will we see each other again?” and i guess you can say that the rest is history.

 that was three years ago. in between that moment in time and the present, so many things have happened. we fell in love with each other. we fought. we broke up and got back together and broke up again, this time, for real. we made new friends, saw our families grow, found new things to love and hate about each other. we grew older, and our views changed. in the scheme of things, what are these events, these changes, but mere dots in time? the world goes on, whether your heart is breaking or you feel like bursting into song, that’s how happy you are.

 but for those who have been in love, you know that love becomes your world. you feel engulfed by it. it invades each part of you. it makes you unable to see things without that film of love covering your eyes. and the world is made better because of it. when you love someone, you are making them feel special, cared for, needed. and in this world where it’s so easy to not care, isn’t that the best gift?

 his story doesn’t have an ending yet. or maybe it already does, but i’m just too afraid to see it. perhaps time has caused too much change and now, we couldn’t go back to how we were. but i have no regrets. love, they say, is the fittest of all emotions and can survive the test of time. and like that first night, i’ll pray, as fervently as i did before, that love will find us again.


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